


In the Doldrums

by khazadspoon



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Emotions are awful why do we have them, M/M, Pining, emotional denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9554879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khazadspoon/pseuds/khazadspoon
Summary: John Silver has feelings. He doesn't like them and pushes them away.





	

Emotions were, in Silver's view, irritating and unnecessary in most situations. Material possessions proved absolute, they never lied, and they were a tangible way of measuring oneself against others.

In short: John didn't like the twist in his stomach as he looked across the deck at his "former" captain.

Battered, still bloody and probably aching, Flint seemed half a man without his captaincy. He had lost the vote. He hadn't been marooned or killed, but he was just another man now. Few of the men wanted anything to do with him but Flint still pulled ropes and shifted crates. There was clearly a man of honour and respect under all that cold skin. John had seen it once or twice, just barely. He didn't like that he wanted to see more.

They were both exiles among the crew of the Walrus; Silver a thief, Flint a murdering liar. It didn't matter that they had both been right, just that they hadn't been right at the correct time.

But Flint's efforts to keep John close and safe (though that was still up for debate) unsettled him. What did Flint want? His share of the Urca gold? His loyalty to pervert and use for his own gains later? John couldn't pin point it. All he knew was his skin flushed when Flint spoke to him, that he followed after the man like an orphan after a kindly priest. It was ridiculous.

Later, in the doldrums, half starved and close to hallucinating, John Silver felt something other than need and want. He felt something akin to affection.

Flint was laying in a hammock on deck, amongst the crew he had gained back with blood and anger, tearing into shark flesh with his teeth. There was a soft satisfaction on his face, something John had only seen once or twice before. He knew this man was capable of great and terrible acts, had been witness to them this last year or so, but it still blindsided him when Flint appeared human.

He did not like it.

Affection was dangerous. It was bad enough with a woman back at port, but with a man? His captain? It was damned near suicide. Lust he could deal with. A quick fumble in the dark to take the edge off; all of them did that, barring Billy who kept to himself. But this warm feeling, this... thing that persisted in his heart and belly, was unfamiliar and thus Not Good.

He did as Flint asked when it seemed useful. He helped the men, gained their trust and affection. But Flint giving him fresh water for his injured leg was a step too far.

John Silver ached for Flint and it was starting to become unbearable.

It didn't help that Flint insisted on bearing his soul with those damned eyes of his; showing John that he was mortal, that he felt pain and shame and hurt more than any one man should. He was beautiful in his tragedy. John wanted to touch him, to make some of that hurt disappear but stopped himself more than once. Flint wouldn't welcome that touch, of that he was almost sure. He would be pushed away as Gates and Billy were, as the Barlow woman was before Charles Town. If he chose to follow that path so Silver would be too.

Instead of letting his heart rule, he turned to his head. He kept his own council, made plans and contingency plans. He made friends that would support him if needed.

He would not let his feelings for Flint become his downfall.


End file.
